The storm's over. The hazards in your yard aren't.

Quick answer: Treat every downed line as live and stay at least 30 feet back. If you smell gas, leave first and call from outside. Don't wade into a flooded basement until you know the power to it is off.

The wind dies down, the rain quits, and you want to go see what happened. Good. Go see. Just do it slowly, with a flashlight and a plan, because the most dangerous things in your yard right now don't look like much.

Walk the property like a bomb tech

Before you pick up a single branch, stop and use your senses in order. Look. Listen. Smell.

Look for wires on the ground, wires hanging low, and wires lying across a fence, a tree or a car. Listen for hissing near the house or the meter. Smell at the door before you go in, because a gas leak announces itself and you'll only catch it if you're paying attention.

Then take the walk with the rest of the family still inside or well back. Kids and dogs find the one wire you missed.

Downed power lines

Assume it's live. A line lying quietly in the grass can carry full current, and it doesn't have to be sparking to kill you. Utilities and the Red Cross say the same thing: stay at least 30 feet away, roughly the length of a school bus, and call 911 and your utility.

Some things people get wrong:

• The ground can be energized. Current spreads out through wet soil around a fallen line. That's why you keep your distance even when nothing's touching the wire.
• Whatever's touching the line is live too. A fence, a puddle, a tree limb, a car. Don't touch any of it.
• Don't move a wire with a stick or a broom. Every year somebody figures a dry piece of wood is safe. Leave it for the lineman.
• Don't drive over one. Take the long way around, or turn back.
• Even a dead-looking line gets reported. Power can come back on without warning when the utility restores service.

If a line falls on your car while you're in it, stay put. Call 911, warn people to keep away, and wait. The only exception is a fire. Then you open the door, keep your feet together, and jump clear without touching the car and the ground at the same time. Land with your feet together and shuffle away in small steps, never lifting them. It's awkward. It's meant to be.

One more rule, and it protects people you'll never meet. If you run a generator, never plug it into your house wiring without a properly installed transfer switch. Power can feed back out onto the line and hurt a crew working to restore your street. The details are in Twenty Feet From the House and Other Generator Rules.

The gas smell

Natural gas has no odor on its own. Utilities add a chemical that smells like rotten eggs, so you'll notice. Propane is treated the same way.

If you smell it, hear a hiss, or see a damaged line, the order is simple.

1. Get everybody out. Don't stop to search for the dog's leash. Open a window on your way if it takes two seconds.
2. Don't create a spark. No light switches, no lighters, no garage door opener, no starting a car in the garage.
3. Call from outside or from a neighbor's house. Gas company first, 911 if you smell it strongly or suspect a fire risk.
4. Stay out until they clear it. Not "I'll just grab my keys." Out.

FEMA's guidance also mentions turning off the gas at the main valve if you can do it safely. Find out now, not in the dark, whether your utility wants you to do that. Some say yes, some say leave it for them. Their website will tell you. If you do shut it off, don't turn it back on yourself. A technician has to do that, and it can take a while after a big storm. Get used to the idea. It's the price of not blowing up the house.

Then there's the gas you can't smell. Carbon monoxide comes from generators, charcoal grills and camp stoves run indoors or too close to a window. Keep a battery-powered CO alarm on every floor you sleep on. It costs less than a tank of gas and it's the one thing in this piece that works while you're asleep.

The flooded basement

It looks like a chore. It's a hazard stack: electricity, contamination, and a structure under pressure.

Electricity first. If the water's reached outlets, cords, the furnace or the panel, don't step in. If you can reach the main breaker without standing in water, shut it off. If you can't, call your utility or an electrician and wait. That's not weakness. That's the only sane answer when you're about to stand in a wet cellar and touch metal.

Assume the water's dirty. Floodwater can carry sewage, fuel and chemicals. Wear waterproof boots and rubber gloves. Wash your hands afterward. If you get a cut during cleanup, ask your doctor whether you need a tetanus shot.

Don't drain it all at once. FEMA advises pumping out gradually, about a third of the water per day. Soil outside the walls is still saturated, and emptying the basement too fast can put enough pressure on the foundation to damage it. Patience is cheaper than a new wall.

Photograph everything before you touch it. Walls, floor, water line, damaged belongings. Your insurance company will want it, and you'll forget half of it. If the deductible leaves you short, this is when your emergency cash earns its keep.

Dry it fast. The CDC says mold can start growing within 24 to 48 hours. Open windows, run fans if the power's safe, and pull out soaked carpet and padding. A N95 respirator is worth having for the mold.

Don't run the furnace, water heater or any flooded appliance until a professional has looked at it. Throw out any food that touched floodwater. That includes the stuff in cans, unless you can sanitize the can. When in doubt, it goes.

Then check on the neighbor

Once your own place is safe, knock on the door of the widow next door or the guy down the street who lives alone. Do it from the safe side of the yard. Carry a flashlight. Ask what they need.

You may be the only one who comes. If your parents live somewhere else, the list for the next three-day outage is worth a phone call this week.

And if somebody wants to rush in, whether it's a teenager, a brother-in-law with a pump, or you, tell him to wait. You can be the one who says no. A flooded basement can sit another hour. Nobody sits well in an ambulance.